


Near-W'rkncacnter Experiences

by wllw



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllw/pseuds/wllw
Summary: The security officer had known for a while that death followed him wherever he went. He only wished it weren't so literal about it.





	Near-W'rkncacnter Experiences

The thing about the end of all reality was that it tended to put your other issues into perspective. Issues such as the destruction of everything you ever held dear, the nagging AI ordering you around like his personal puppet, the nagging feeling in your head that everyone around you knew more about you than you did and was being very smug about it, or the seven-foot tall skeleton in pitch back robes standing politely to the side with a scythe in its bony hand.

OH, DON'T MIND ME, it said. I'M JUST DOING MY JOB.

It wasn't his problem. Soon enough, it wouldn't be anyone's.

 

* * *

 

Of course reality would find a way to prove him wrong.

YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. NOT THIS YOU, AT LEAST. SOMEBODY HAS MADE A MESS OF THINGS.

Maybe if he ignored it it would go away.

IT PROBABLY HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH QUANTUM. I NEVER QUITE UNDERSTOOD IT.

A group of enforcers had fled down the corridor, a swarm of fighters on their heels. If he hurried there might still be some left for him. That might help take his mind off things.

SEE YOU STARSIDE, Death called out to him as he left. WAS THAT THE APPROPRIATE PHRASE?

 

* * *

 

"Are you stalking me, now?"

IT'S NOTHING PERSONAL, I ASSURE YOU. I AM STALKING EVERYONE.

"Yeah, that's real assuring. Am I going to die, then?"

OH, YES. EVERYONE IS.

"Really. You mean eventually, or should I start getting worried?"

BOTH, I THINK. IT'S GETTING RATHER HARD TO TELL. BUT, IF IT HELPS, IT'S PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO BE WORRIED EITHER WAY.

Right.

From below, the Bobs shouted curses at him. Maybe, if the apparition was right, what he was about to do wouldn't be so bad. Or, at least, it wouldn't make any difference at all.

 

* * *

 

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

He really shouldn't stop. The indicator on the oxygen tank that Durandal had deigned to teleport in was informing him that if he didn't hurry he'd find himself meeting Death in a rather more permanent manner soon. He needed to move.

Death turned to look at him.

I, OF COURSE, DO NOT HAVE EMOTIONS AND CANNOT ENJOY ANYTHING. He seemed to think for a second. EXCEPT FOR CATS.

A grenade came rolling down the narrow walkway. He side-stepped it, sighed, hefted his fusion pistol in his hand and went to deal with the issue. Death looked down at the remains of a dead hunter with a look on his face that somehow managed to come across as pensive.

AND A GOOD CURRY, I SUPPOSE.

 

* * *

 

IMAGINE A PAIR OF TROUSERS, said Death. YOU ARE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING DOWN ONE LEG.

"And I've been down a few more of these legs before is what you're saying?"

YES.

"So how many legs are there, exactly?"

MANY. MORE THAN YOUR MIND COULD CONCEIVE.

"Not very good fucking trousers then, are they?"

Death seemed to hesitate for a second. MAYBE THEY BELONG TO A VYLAE?

"Wow." The security officer turned away, wiping the ichor from his helmet. His hand felt oddly heavy. "I've finally met someone who's worse at metaphors than Durandal."

 

* * *

 

In the end, everything turned out the same. Durandal pressed on, and Tycho came, and Thoth, and everything else.

HELLO AGAIN. I SEE THIS IS STARTING TO BECOME A HABIT.

He took a deep breath. Then, another one.

"Listen, no offence, but I'd really rather not talk to the greatest murderer in the universe right now."

NO. YOU CONFUSE THE CAUSE WITH THE EFFECT. THE GREATEST MURDERER IN THE UNIVERSE WAS A JJARO ARCHITECT WHO FOUND A WAY TO KILL STARS.

"Yeah?"

THEY WERE QUITE PLEASANT WHEN I MET THEM. JUST GOES TO SHOW.

He leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and internally debated whether it was worth going through the effort of saying something.

THERE ARE STILL OTHER TROUSER LEGS, YOU KNOW.

He cracked open one eye to look at Death.

ER, SORRY. THE METAPHOR IS REALLY STRETCHING THIN AT THIS POINT.

"Yeah? And how exactly am I supposed to fight something like... something like that, whatever trouser leg I'm in?"

I'M TOLD THAT HALF A BRICK IN A SOCK CAN BE HANDY.

Death was grinning at him. To be fair, he probably didn't have much say in the matter.

He almost found himself grinning back.

 

* * *

 

In the end, everything turned out the same.

"Are you here for me or for him?" he asked wearily, glancing at the flickering terminal beside him.

BOTH. OR NEITHER. THINGS ARE GETTING QUITE MESSY. IT'S FRUSTRATING, YOU KNOW. IF I CAN'T DO THIS JOB PROPERLY, THEN WHO WILL?

"You—" he began, hoarse, but the words slipped away from him. He ran a hand against the impossibly smooth wall. "You come for AIs, too?"

I COME FOR EVERYONE, EVENTUALLY. A MAN DREAMS ONE LAST DREAM AS HE LIES DYING. A THINKING MACHINE, IN ITS FINAL MOMENTS, SENSES SOMETHING IT CANNOT PROCESS WITH ITS LITTLE BITS OF METAL AND SILICON. IN THE END, THERE IS LITTLE DIFFERENCE.

"Funny. He'd argue otherwise." Except he wouldn't any more, and maybe it wasn't all that funny after all.

MANY DO, said Death evenly.

 

* * *

 

Finally, he understood. Or at least he thought he did. But he saw the things that were truly in front of him, and he saw the path forward, clear as a knife cutting through the fog. It was possible that he was going mad. Possibly, it was the only sane thing left to do.

He thought he saw a shadow from the corner of his eye, but when he turned there was nothing there.

Oh well. He'd see him again, eventually. Everyone did.

In the meantime, he had all the trouser legs in the world.


End file.
